Life And Art Poem by Emma Lazarus
Life And Art
Not while the fever of the blood is strong,
The heart throbs loud, the eyes are veiled, no less
With passion than with tears, the Muse shall bless
The poet-sould to help and soothe with song.
Not then she bids his trembling lips express
The aching gladness, the voluptuous pain.
Life is his poem then; flesh, sense, and brain
One full-stringed lyre attuned to happiness.
But when the dream is done, the pulses fail,
The day's illusion, with the day's sun set,
He, lonely in the twilight, sees the pale
Divine Consoler, featured like Regret,
Enter and clasp his hand and kiss his brow.
Then his lips ope to sing--as mine do now.
The relationship of life and art in a poet's life has been marvelously reflected in this superb poem. Thanks for sharing it here.
Day's illusions of life! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
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10/6/2024 6:26:14 AM # 1.0.0.1119
The lasting value of poetry or art lies not in the immediate satisfaction of feelings but in the long use based on harmony with life! The expression of such things in art deserves all praise indeed!